Nobody's Picture-Perfect
by TheOneWithTheQuill
Summary: AU Faberry Fic. Rachel is the new but ambitious girl at McKinley High School, and Quinn is the ever-popular head cheerleader with several dark secrets and a mysterious past. What will happen when their paths cross? DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee or its characters, just this fanfiction. I'm also not making money off of this.
1. Chapter 1: New Year, New Faces

**Chapter 1: New Year, New Faces**

_Okay. You can do this, Rachel Berry. You're a star. Just breathe. You're smart, you're sexy, and you're talented. Nothing is going to get in your way. Nothing._

16-year-old Rachel Berry took a deep breath as she pushed open the doors to McKinley High School. She knew that transferring to Lima, Ohio––probably one of the least exciting places to live in the United States––wouldn't be an easy feat. But she decided that this was only a minor setback for her career. She could deal with a year or two of simple community theater. Who knew? Maybe living in a pathetic excuse of a town in Suburbia would give her some inspiration and experience to draw back on for future roles.

Smiling brightly, she clutched her books to her chest, nodding politely at the students passing by her. People stared, and a few pointed and whispered and giggled, but that wasn't a problem. _Any attention is better than none._

Rachel finally found her locker and proceeded to carefully organize her books and binders in it. She clucked her tongue slightly, knowing that she'd need to bring lots of supplies from home the next day in order to give her new storage space some flair. A boring locker would simply not do.

Deciding that for now all she could do was keep her locker clean, Rachel carefully slid her geography book in between her science binder and the copy of Barbra Streisand's biography that she always had with her for luck. Barbra was her icon. No, even that word wasn't strong enough: Barbra was simply _her_. It wasn't just the looks that they had in common: it was the talent, the attitude, the _star-quality_, a phrase that Rachel's fathers used all too often, especially when talking about her. Nodding decisively, Rachel closed her locker, all set to go to English class.

"Nice sweater, dwarf. I think Mrs. Clause wants it back though." Rachel frowned, turning around to see five girls, clad in red-and-white cheerleading uniforms, laughing at her. Rachel peered at her sweater. It was one of her favorites––a dark green sweater with two white reindeers leaping across it. Granted, it wasn't very season-appropriate, but it could still pass.

Rachel huffed, deciding not to give the girls the satisfaction of lashing out at them. She simply did what she always did when someone tried to put her down: she put her chin up, ignored the laughter and snide comments, and walked straight on to class.

* * *

17-year-old Quinn Fabray tugged nervously at her Cheerios uniform. It was 3:55. _Only five more minutes. _

While Quinn didn't adore cheerleading, it certainly comforted her. It gave her a sense of belonging, that she was a part of something. Even better, a part of something that made her popular. She glanced at Brittany and Santana, her best friends, who were sitting to her right. They were in the middle of a back-to-school, "test on what you remember from last year" Spanish test, and Santana was giving Brittany her answers to copy off of. Quinn rolled her eyes. _Could they be any more obvious?_

Quinn sighed and tried to finish her own test. She only had one question left. It was an easy one, but for some reason she just couldn't concentrate.

"Eyes on your own paper, Brittany," called out Mr. Schuester, the Spanish teacher. Brittany immediately scooted away from Santana, looking remorseful.

"I can't help it. I didn't know we had a test today."

"That's because we weren't supposed to know," hissed Quinn, exasperated. She just wanted to finish the damn test and go to Cheerios practice.

Before she could write down her final answer, the bell rang. Oh well. At least she got most of the other questions right. She'd probably get a 90.

Tossing her test in the basket on Mr. Schuester's desk, Quinn walked out of the classroom. Why was she so distracted today? This was no way to start off her junior year of high school.

"Hey, Quinn, wait up," called Santana. Quinn stopped and waited for her and Brittany to catch up with her.

"Ugh, I _hate _it when teachers give tests on the first day back. It's like they _want _to fail us," groaned Santana.

"What are you complaining about? You're hispanic, you speak Spanish at home," retorted Quinn.

"Okay, I'm going to ignore that vaguely biased and slightly racist comment––" Quinn shot her a confused look "––because I know that you're still fresh off of your pregnancy hormones from last year."

Quinn stopped dead in her tracks and whirled around in a flash to face Santana.

"I thought that we were _never _going to mention what happened last year. Ever." Quinn's voice was menacing and dangerous.

"What? It's not my fault you––"

"_Don't_," warned Quinn, her eyes flashing. Santana raised her eyebrows, shooting her hands up, as if to say "don't get offended".

"Sorry. I didn't know you were still sensitive about it."

"How could I _not _still be sensitive about it?" asked Quinn, her voice strained. "Look. It doesn't matter, because we are never going to bring it up again. Understand?"

"Alright, chica. Don't get your perfect panties in a bunch," replied Santana. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Jeez, what is _up_ with you today?" asked Santana.

"Nothing." Quinn stopped in front of her locker, opening it. "I just want to go to Cheerios practice and go home."

"Fine. I'll see you at practice." Santana and Brittany walked away towards the gym.

Quinn shook her head as she grabbed her books from her locker for her homework. It was just _cruel _to give homework to students on the first day.

* * *

Rachel stood in front of the signup sheet billboard, analyzing each and every signup sheet posted. Ordinarily, she would've signed up for every club, but something about starting a new school year in a new school made her a little pickier than she usually was about extracurriculars.

There was the Jewish Student Union––Rachel would definitely be signing up for that one to honor her roots. Going through her bookbag, she carefully pulled out a fresh sheet of gold star stickers. She carefully signed her name on the line, then placed a gold star next to it. The gold star was a metaphor for Rachel becoming a star. Metaphors were very important.

Rachel proceeded to sign up for the Debate Club, the School Newspaper, the Gay-Straight Alliance (for her dads), the Young Democrats club, the Chess Club, the Spanish Club, the English Literature Club, and...

One sign-up sheet caught Rachel's eye. _New Directions! Glee Club: Sign Up Sheet. _

"A glee club?" Rachel asked aloud to herself, prompting giggles from a few students to her left. Rachel ignored them. For some reason, everybody was laughing at her today no matter what she did.

Rachel knew that she couldn't miss out on an opportunity to sing and get the lead. She hadn't been in a choir since she was little, when she pretended to be Catholic to be a part of the local church's choir. Of course, when they found out that she was Jewish, they promptly kicked her out, but it was nice to be able to get up there and sing her heart out, even about things that she didn't necessarily agree with. And it was nice to be the star, even of just a mere all-girls church choir.

Rachel smiled as she signed her name on the signup sheet for the glee club, but frowned when she saw that other people had signed up, too. Granted, not many, but still, more than one or two. Rachel usually liked working alone and guaranteeing that she would be in the spotlight, but she shrugged, knowing that she'd probably beat them out for the role of soloist. She wanted to put two gold stars next to her name, but decided against it; she didn't want to run out of stickers before the end of her first month back at school.

As she was turning around to leave, she accidentally bumped into someone. Reflexively closing her eyes and stumbling blindly backwards, Rachel's back hit the signup sheet, sending a few sheets of paper tumbling down. A few members of the football team jeered and clapped.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" growled the girl Rachel had bumped into. Rachel slowly opened her eyes to see a blonde girl in a red-and-white Cheerios uniform (as Rachel had learned they were called) sprawled on the floor, rubbing the side of her head.

"Oh! I––I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?" asked Rachel, extending a hand to help the blonde up.

"No." The blonde grabbed her hand to help herself up, but ended up dragging Rachel down with her. With a small scream, she toppled on top of the Cheerio, causing more laughter from the small crowd of students who'd progressively gathered nearby.

"Oh. My God." The blonde covered her face with her hands, embarrassed. Rachel, even more embarrassed than the cheerleader, immediately scrambled to her feet, her face turning bright red.

"Sorry again," she said in a small voice. The blonde girl groaned and helped herself up, rubbing her back and her head.

"Are you okay?" asked Rachel tentatively.

"Fine," said the blonde dryly, brushing herself off and looking Rachel sharply in the eyes. "Some people just need to watch where they're going."

"I suppose you're referring to me and not you," said Rachel quietly, looking down, not daring to look her in the eyes.

"What are _you_ all looking?" retorted Quinn loudly to the group of clustered students who were still staring at them. She waved her hand at them. "Get out of here! Go!"

Rachel took in the blonde girl's figure. She was beautifully slim, the way a cheerleader was supposed to be. Then again, she probably starved herself, a path Rachel had vowed to never go down, though she had been tempted to many times. Her blonde hair was in a high ponytail and curled perfectly––too perfectly. Rachel suspected a curling iron had done the job. The blonde turned back to Rachel, her hazel eyes staring straight into Rachel's brown ones, and Rachel felt herself become self-conscious and hot all over. _What is wrong with me? _Rachel never felt self-conscious, but something about the way the blonde was looking at her made her feel like she was staring straight into her soul.

"I..." stammered Rachel, then cleared her throat in an attempt to calm herself down and extended her hand. "I'm very sorry that I knocked into you. I should've looked where I was going."

The blonde pushed Rachel's hand away and scowled. "Whatever," she grimaced, moving on down the hallway. Rachel couldn't help but look at the way her hips moved as she made her way down the hallway. She suddenly shook her head, putting a hand to her forehead. Was she feverish? She surely was. It would explain the strangeness she felt when she bumped into the blonde. Or maybe it was the beginnings of brain damage, or maybe her back hitting the wall had injured her nervous system in some way. Whatever it was, Rachel didn't want to acknowledge it right now. Exiting the school, she tried to grasp the feeling of excitement she'd felt as she was signing up for glee club, but her head was swimming with images of the blonde girl. Rachel had been attracted to girls before; that was no secret to her or her dads. And her dads, being gay, had no problem with it. But Rachel had never felt something so impromptu, so sudden as what she'd felt when she bumped into that cheerleader.

_Stop it, Rachel, _she told herself. _Just calm down. You're fine. You're absolutely fine. Remember what you told yourself this morning: nothing is going to get in your way this year. Nothing._


	2. Chapter 2: Auditions

**I know nobody's really reading this fanfiction, but I'm going to continue it for myself.**

**Chapter 2: Auditions**

The very next morning, Rachel woke up bright and early with three words on her mind: _glee club auditions._ Maybe it was a little harsh to hold the auditions the second day of school, but Rachel had no problem with that. The sooner the club started, the better.

Rachel had mostly managed to shake the memory of bumping into that blonde cheerleader the day before. Now that she thought about it, she really didn't understand why she was so worked up about it. It was just a run-in with an attractive girl, and Rachel had felt an attraction. Nothing unusual and absolutely nothing to freak out about.

Rachel made sure to pack plenty of bottled water to drink before her audition. She packed an extra bottle of vitamins and her repertoire––exactly 61 songs neatly tucked into a pink floral binder. She could not be more ready.

Rachel sailed through her second day of classes with ease. When 4:00 came, she was ready for action. She'd placed a post-it on the song she was going to sing in her binder: "On My Own", from the seminal Broadway classic "Les Mis".

Rachel stepped into the auditorium. At first glance, it appeared empty. Empty and desolate. _Have no fear_, thought Rachel. _Rachel Berry is here to light up the stage._

"Hi there." Rachel jumped, looking around before her eyes landed on a teacher who looked like he was in his early 30's. "Are you Rachel?"

"Yes. Rachel Berry. I'm here to audition for glee club." She stood as straight as she could, trying to make herself appear taller than she actually was to instill confidence in the director...or teacher...or whatever he was.

"Fantastic. I'm Mr. Schue, I'm running the glee club this year." He motioned towards the stage "Step right up." Rachel confidently walked up the steps, placing her sheet music on the piano.

"I'll be singing 'On My Own' from the seminal Broadway cla––"

"'Les Mis'. Got it. Let's hear it."

Rachel frowned a bit. She wasn't used to people finishing her sentences. Her confidence a bit shaken, she planted her feet firmly on the stage, stood up as straight as she could and began to sing.

_"On my own_

_Pretending he's beside me_

_All alone_

_I walk with him 'til morning..."_

Rachel poured her heart out into the song, trying to muster every romantic feeling she'd ever felt for anybody. Halfway through the song, she realized that it was a bad idea; the image of the blonde girl she'd bumped into the day before started entering her head again, and she started feeling flustered and sweaty and self-conscious again. Not good.

_"I love him_

_But every day I'm learning_

_All my life_

_I've only been pretending!"_

_Keep cool. Keep cool. You're doing fantastic, Rachel Berry._

_"Without me, his world will go on turning_

_A world that's full of happiness that I have never known!"_

Rachel was almost gasping for breath, she was concentrated so hard on not getting deconcentrated.

_"I love him_

_I love him_

_I love him..._

_But only on my own."_

Rachel almost sighed with relief as she finished the song.

Mr. Schue closed the binder he was taking notes in. "Very nice, Rachel." He smiled.

That was exactly what Rachel needed to hear to get her confidence back.

"When do we start rehearsals?" she asked in a pointed voice.

"We rehearse every Thursday at 4." Rachel nodded sharply.

Rachel started to leave the auditorium and was at the doorway when she heard Mr. Schue call another name.

"Quinn Fabray? You're up."

_Quinn Fabray_? That wasn't one of the names that Rachel had seen on the signup sheet when she went to sign up. Rachel turned around to get a glimpse at who this person was...

...and nearly had a stroke. Standing on the stage was the blonde girl that Rachel had bumped into the other day––the one she'd been so flustered about.

_Quinn_, thought Rachel. _Unusual. But pretty._

"I'll be singing 'I Say a Little Prayer for You' by Dionne Warwick," she said in a shaky voice. She cleared her throat and the piano began to play.

_"The moment I wake up_

_Before I put on my makeup_

_I say a little prayer for you_

_While combing my hair, now_

_I'm wondering what dress you wear now_

_I say a little prayer for you..."_

As Quinn sang the song, Rachel was taken aback by the sweet dulcet tones of her voice. She was a little pitchy and nasal, but overall she was actually pretty good. Ordinarily Rachel would have been threatened by a girl with any talent at all in the singing department, but for some reason it was different with Quinn.

When Quinn finished the song, Rachel applauded as softly as she could.

"Fantastic, Quinn. Beautiful voice." Quinn smiled shyly. "Welcome to the New Directions."

"Um, Mr. Schuester, if you could not tell Coach Sylvester about this I'd appreciate it," said Quinn in a low voice, almost a whisper.

Mr. Schue nodded.

"Of course."

Quinn nodded as a thank you and walked briskly off the stage. She made her way to the doorway and was about to leave before Rachel caught her arm.

"You were really good," she managed to get out. The flustered feeling was coming back.

Quinn jumped, then narrowed her eyes and marched towards Rachel, looking down at her menacingly. She was at least 2 inches taller than the brunette. She quickly checked around her to make sure that there was nobody in sight before saying,

"If you tell anyone about this, you are going to be very sorry."

With that, Quinn left the auditorium as quickly as she could, leaving a confused Rachel standing awkwardly in the doorway.


	3. Chapter 3: First Encounter

**Hey, guys. I really don't mean to be a review whore, but I would really appreciate it if somebody could give me some feedback on the story, just to let me know if I'm going in the right direction with this. Not an obligation, though. :)**

**Chapter 3: First Encounter**

Thursday afternoon arrived quicker than Quinn had anticipated. As soon as the hallways were cleared out enough, Quinn made her way to the choir room. _Thank God I don't have Cheerios practice on Thursdays_.

Quinn wasn't really sure why she'd decided to audition for glee club in the first place. She did plenty of singing at church on Sundays. It wasn't like she was pursuing a career in the arts. Quinn's father had already planned out her future: like her older sister, Frannie, she'd go to Harvard Pre-Med, then on to medical school to become a doctor. What kind of doctor hadn't been determined yet, but Quinn was sure that her father would find something. She didn't have any dreams to chase after, so what was wrong with her father choosing Quinn's career for her?

Quinn quickly entered the choir room so nobody in the hallways would see her. She was greeted by silence. Five people sat before her, two of whom she already knew: Artie, the kid in the wheelchair who'd garnered sympathy throughout Lima after his accident; Mercedes, the strong, black diva-woman; a kid with the face of a twelve-year-old wearing skinny jeans, a vest, a collared shirt buttoned up to the top, and a newsboy cap; a goth Asian girl; and that annoying brunette who'd stalked her at her glee audition. The brunette squirmed in her chair when Quinn entered the room, while most of the other members looked away.

"You have _got _to be _kidding _me," murmured Quinn to herself as she took a seat in the back of the choir room. Did all outcasts behave like this in the presence of a cheerleader?

Almost as if on cue, Mr. Schuester entered the room, stacks of papers and a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Sorry I'm a little late, guys. Had to stop by my office to get this sheet music." He waved the music scores excitedly.

"So." He clapped his hands together. "I think we should just start with introductions. My name is Mr. Schuester, or Mr. Schue for those who have trouble pronouncing my name." He chuckled; his joke was met with dead silence.

"O_kay_. Moving on. Let's, uh...let's...maybe go around the room and introduce ourselves?" The glee club's apathy was clearly taking a toll on Mr. Schuester's initial confidence.

Mr. Schuester motioned towards Artie.

"Uh...hi. I'm Artie." He stuck his hand out in the Asian goth's direction, but she ignored him, causing Artie to awkwardly retract his hand.

"T-T-Tina Cohen-Chang," stuttered the Asian. _Great_, thought Quinn. _A stuttering singer._

"I'm Kurt Hummel," announced the fashionably-dressed manchild.

"Mercedes Jones," said Mercedes dully, looking bored.

"And I'm Rachel Berry." The brunette stood up from her seat, looking around at the other glee clubbers, seemingly avoiding Quinn with her eyes. "Born on December 18th to two gay dads via surrogate mo––"

"Just your name is fine, Rachel," said Mr. Schuester in a tired voice. He leaned against the piano, rubbing his temples.

"Okay, so who's ready to make some _music_?" he asked, obviously trying to attempt to lift the mood in the choir room. Only Rachel nodded fervently.

"If I may suggest a few songs, Mr. Schuester. I think that this glee club should go in a more..._theatrical _direction. I myself have an extensive knowledge of Broadway and––"

"Thank you, Rachel. I'll keep that in mind," Mr. Schuester cut her off. Rachel frowned, crossing her arms.

_Amazing_, thought Quinn. _She's even more annoying than I expected her to be._

"So...the first song that I've got is a number from the musical _Guys and Dolls. _Is anyone here familiar with––"

"Yes," answered Rachel quickly.

"–– _Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat_," finished Mr. Schuester, sighing. He handed out the sheet music to the six members. Quinn ran her eyes up and down the first page.

"Let's get started. Everybody get in the front here. Artie, you'll take the lead––"

"_What_?" asked Rachel sharply.

Mr. Schuester sighed, exasperated. "Rachel, it's a _male lead_. You'll get the next solo. Now, Artie, I want you to stay in the middle here, and you guy will all just..."

Quinn had almost tuned Mr. Schuester out. _This is worse than I thought_.

Glee rehearsal finally came to an end. Quinn was almost certain that she wouldn't be coming back. To start with, they were an awful group––during the dance number, everybody kept tripping over Artie's wheelchair. Their singing was mediocre at best, although even Quinn had to admit that Rachel's big mouth did come to good use when it came to performing.

"Great work, everybody. See you next Thursday," said Mr. Schuester with a bright smile plastered on his face.

Soon, everybody had streamed out of the choir room except for Quinn and Rachel. Quinn kept her eyes on her backpack as she crammed the sheet music into her paper folder.

"So." Quinn looked up to see Rachel standing awkwardly in front of her chair, facing her. "We sucked, huh."

"Yep," answered Quinn shortly, shoving her paper folder in her backpack and zipping it up. She slid her arms through the shoulder straps and started out the door.

"A-Are you going to be coming back next week?" asked Rachel.

"No."

Rachel frowned slightly.

"Is this because we were so bad today? Because with practice we can _definitely _get better––"

"What do you want from me?" asked Quinn sharply, turning towards Rachel. Rachel took a step back.

"What? I-I don't want anything, I just––"

"Look." Quinn stepped closer to Rachel. "I don't want to have anything to do with this club. I don't even know why I auditioned for it. I know that you might think that you have some kind of _power_ over me because you saw my audition and you could go blab about it at any moment and tell everyone in school how––"

"I wasn't going to tell anybody," said Rachel quietly.

Quinn suddenly stopped.

"What?"

Rachel felt her face get hot.

"Well, I...I mean, I wasn't going to tell anybody about you auditioning for glee club."

Quinn looked at her, confused.

"I mean, I..." Rachel looked at the ground. "I...I don't see any _point_ in doing that...it would be pretty dishonorable, really. It would be a really mean thing to do, and I..." Rachel didn't even know what she was saying anymore. She couldn't look at Quinn without feeling self-conscious.

To Rachel's surprise, she heard Quinn laugh shortly. Rachel looked up, wide-eyed, making Quinn laugh even more.

"I don't understand. What's so funny?"

"You," laughed Quinn. "You're all..._panicky_." Quinn found herself smiling at the brunette's state of distress. She almost subconsciously added, "it's cute", but immediately caught herself.

Rachel looked at the ground again, embarrassed.

"So...you never intended on telling Coach Sylvester about me joining the glee club?"

"Who's Coach Sylvester?" asked Rachel, sitting down on one of the plastic choir room seats.

"You don't know who Coach Sylvester is?" asked Quinn. Rachel shook her head again.

"No. I-I'm new here, actually." Rachel looked down, suddenly feeling like an ignorant little child for not being familiar with the school's faculty the way Quinn was.

"She's the cheerleading coach," said Quinn, setting her bag down and sitting down next to Rachel. "She's absolutely _terrifying_. I mean, I try not to show it, but deep down inside she scares the crap out of me. Like this one time," Quinn turned slightly so she would be facing Rachel, crossing her legs. "Santana, Brittany, and I––Santana and Brittany are my friends––were late to Cheerios practice, and she made us hand wash her lingerie." Rachel made a face.

"Oh my God, that's _awful_."

"But, I mean...I'm her favorite. She's always telling me, 'You know, Q, you always remind me of a young Sue Sylvester.'" Quinn sighed. "If she found out that I was auditioning for glee club, she'd _kill_ me."

"But why did you audition for glee club?" asked Rachel. Quinn took a moment to think about it before shrugging, answering,

"I don't know. I like singing, I guess. I've...always liked it, really. Musicals are kind of my guilty pleasure." She giggled slightly.

"Well..." Rachel took a deep breath before going on, knowing that what she was about to say would be hinting a date proposal, "...I have quite an extensive collection of musicals at my house."

"Yeah, I heard you tell Mr. Schuester about that," replied Quinn, looking down.

There was an awkward silence between them before Quinn picked up her bag and slipped it back over her shoulders.

"Well, I-I should be going now. It's getting pretty late."

"Right." Rachel started gathering her things together.

Quinn started to leave the room.

"Hey, Quinn?" Quinn turned around expectantly, eyebrows raised.

"Are you going to come back next week?"

Quinn considered.

"Maybe," she answered, then turned on her heels and walked out of the choir room.

Rachel bit her lip and smiled.


	4. Chapter 4: The New Boy

**Thank you guys for the nice reviews. :) They were really sweet. Sorry the progress is getting so slow, I'm trying to build up the tension.**

**Chapter 4: The New Boy**

Rachel was unusually jittery the following Thursday. Number one, it was the day glee club met up, meaning two things: one, she'd get to sing, and two––she was a little embarrassed to admit it, even to herself––she'd get to see Quinn again. The week following her brief encounter with Quinn that first rehearsal of glee club had been a blur. She hadn't really gotten a chance to talk to Quinn since then, but she'd run into her a few times in the hallways. She'd discreetly smile at Quinn, and provided that none of her friends were around, the blonde would wave a tiny wave back, or smile a small smile in return.

* * *

When Quinn walked into the choir room the following Thursday for the second glee club meeting, she stopped dead in her tracks. Standing by the white board was the last person she'd ever expected to see join glee club. Well, second-to-last. She didn't want to talk about the last person.

"Finn?" asked Quinn tentatively.

The tall, slightly lanky quarterback turned around upon hearing his name, and his mouth gaped.

"Quinn? What––what are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same thing," she retorted, raising her eyebrows and looking him up and down, something she was very fond of doing when she felt like she was losing the upper hand.

"Well––I...um..." he moved closer to Quinn so he wouldn't have to speak loudly. "I got busted for pot."

"_Pot_?" Quinn almost laughed. "You don't smoke pot. You're the biggest chicken I've ever seen when it comes to drugs."

"Yeah, I know, but..." Finn's eyes darted around, nervously shrugging. "When they searched my locker they found pot. So if I wanna get out of detention with Mr. Schuester––"

"Wait. Mr. _Schuester_? Why him?"

"He's the one who found the pot in my locker. Anyway, I need to join glee club if I don't want it to go on my permanent record."

Quinn scoffed.

"And what are _you _doing here? I know Coach Sylvester wouldn't be too happy to see that you joined _glee club_." Finn crossed his arms.

"Shut up," Quinn scowled. "Coach Sylvester doesn't know I'm here."

Before either of them could say anything more, Mr. Schuester walked into the room, accompanied by Rachel.

"Hey guys! Oh, Finn, great. You're here." He motioned towards the two of them. "You two can go take a seat."

Quinn took a seat in the front, crossing her arms, a grimace on her face. Finn sat as far away from Quinn as possible.

Rachel frowned slightly, watching Quinn and Finn exchange cold glances.

"So. We're not going to be in here very long because I've rented the auditorium for today. But first, I want you to welcome our newest member––Finn Hudson!" The rest of the club clapped slowly and unenthusiastically.

"Some of you probably know him as the quarterback of our football team––"

"Which hasn't won any games since 1984," muttered Quinn under her breath. Finn shot her a look.

"––but starting today, you'll all know him as someone a little different. Glee tends to open up sides of us that we didn't even know existed. So, on that note,"––he picked up the sheet music he'd laid down on the piano–– "To the auditorium we go."

* * *

_"I got chills_

_They're multiplying_

_And I'm losing control_

_Cause the power_

_You're supplying_

_It's electrifying!"_

Quinn rolled her eyes as Finn sang Danny's part in "You're the One That I Want". _God, why does he have to be a decent singer? Why can't he just fall flat on his ass for once?_

"Okay, now Rachel, you're going to sing Sandy's part," explained Mr. Schue, pointing to Rachel, who happily complied.

_"You better shape up_

_Cause I need a man_

_And my heart is set on you_

_You better shape up_

_You better understand_

_To my heart I must be true..."_

"Okay, great. Now, you three..." As Mr. Schue continued to direct the kids around, Rachel couldn't help but glance at Quinn. More than once. She looked so...awkward. And angry. Especially at Finn. Rachel's heart fluttered when Quinn returned the glance, and she quickly turned her head away to hide the fact that she was turning pink.

"So," said Rachel quickly, turning towards Finn in an effort to divert her attention from Quinn. "You're the quarterback."

"Uh...yeah." Finn smiled a dorky smile. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel saw Quinn roll her eyes.

"Is it fun?" Rachel didn't know the first thing about football, but she was so desperate to control her emotions and to control the blush creeping across her face that she was willing to talk about anything to get rid of it.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," answered Finn, his eyes on Quinn. Rachel frowned.

"Do you like her?" she asked. A very risky question, but she was willing to do it to find out what was going on between the two of them.

"She cheated on me," said Finn bluntly. "With my best friend."

"O-Oh." Rachel looked down at her shoes, embarrassed for having made him answer such a personal question. "I'm sorry."

"Nah, don't be. She's nothing but a skanky attention whore anyway," said Finn, loud enough for Quinn to hear.

"Well, at least I don't abandon my girlfriend in her time of need!" Quinn shot back, marching towards him. She turned towards Rachel.

"Don't listen to anything he says about me. He's nothing but a gossip and all he wants is attention!"

"YOU CHEATED ON ME!" yelled Finn. "You're going to tell me that's not true?"

"All right, enough!" yelled Mr. Schue, walking over from where he was standing on the other side of the stage. "Break it up, you two." He put his hand on each of their shoulders, but Quinn shook it off.

"I need to use the bathroom," she muttered, walking off the stage and out of the auditorium.


	5. Chapter 5: Warm Up

**Chapter 5: Warm Up**

The next day, Rachel saw Quinn at her locker, head down.

"Quinn," said Rachel suddenly, approaching her. "Are you okay? I mean, after yesterday?"

"I'm fine," replied Quinn sharply, not even turning in Rachel's direction. "I was just...caught off guard by Finn's joining the glee club. Didn't think he would do that."

"Oh. Right. He, um...he told me about your past." Quinn didn't say anything, so Rachel went on. "If you want to talk about it, you can just––"

"Look." Quinn turned aggressively towards Rachel. "If you think that just because we had a five-minute conversation after the first rehearsal of glee club and we share a few waves in the hallway means that we're friends, you're wrong. Dead wrong. I don't need a confidante, and I certainly don't want a friend right now. Do I make myself clear, man-hands?"

Rachel backed away, a scared and confused look in her widening eyes. Quinn immediately felt a pinch in her chest, but warded it off. She was sick of sympathy and people trying to talk to her.

Quinn bit her lip and looked down, then turned back to her locker. Rachel stared at Quinn for a little while, her bottom lip trembling slightly, before rushing off down the hallway.

As Quinn watched Rachel run away, she slammed her locker shut. _Great_, she thought. _Just when life was starting to warm up to you, you waved it away. Good job, Quinn. Excellent._

* * *

When Quinn went to glee club the next week, Rachel looked away. Quinn felt another pinch in her chest, the one she'd been feeling all week when she thought of Rachel or crossed her in the hallway. Quinn had been trying to work up the courage to apologize to her, but for some reason just couldn't.

Taking a deep breath, Quinn walked to the back of the choir room, placing her things down on a seat.

Finn entered the choir room. Upon seeing Quinn, he scurried to the far end of the room. Quinn sighed, chewing her lip.

Mr. Schue walked in, with two new songs for them to do––"Don't Stop Believin'" and "Faithfully" by Journey––but Quinn wasn't listening. She was lost in thought at how nasty she'd become. It only just now hit her how much she'd been shutting out the world ever since...well, what had happened last year. But she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. The only people who knew about it were Santana and Brittany.

Quinn sighed again and made her way to the front of the room with the rest of the group, picked up her copies of the songs, and started warming up with the piano.

* * *

As rehearsal finally came to a close and everybody drained out of the choir room, Quinn walked up to Rachel.

"Rachel." Rachel turned around and looked down when she heard Quinn's voice.

"Oh. Hi Quinn."

"Listen, I..." _Oh, God. How do I do this? _"I...um...I wanted to apologize. For...what I said on Friday."

Rachel shrugged.

"You had every right to say those things." She looked up, looking Quinn dead in the eyes, feeling strong now instead of the usual weakness she felt when staring at her. "I was stupid for believing that a cheerleader would want to be friends with me." Rachel started walking out.

"Wait." Rachel stopped.

"I..." Quinn took a deep breath. She wasn't used to apologizing for having hurt someone's feelings. But for some reason, Quinn felt an obligation to apologize to Rachel. Quinn had figured out by now that _something_ was going on between her and Rachel, although she couldn't tell if it was good or bad.

"I shouldn't have said that," said Quinn quietly; it was her turn to look down. "And...I'm sorry." She looked up at Rachel. "Really, I am." An awkward silence reigned, so Quinn went on, albeit nervously. "And...I do actually..." Quinn looked away. "...sort of want a friend right now."

Rachel smiled shyly.

"Okay," she said quietly.

Another silence, but it was softer this time. Almost gentle.

"Um." Rachel cleared her throat. "Do you...want to maybe...come over to my house this afternoon?" Rachel bit her lip, her heart pounding. _Please don't think this is a date. Please don't think this is a date. Please don't think this is a date._

Quinn opened her mouth, her eyes slightly widening. Her mind flashed to a scenario in which Santana and Brittany found out about her being in glee club, about her hanging out with Rachel, about this new double-life she seemed to lead as of three weeks ago.

It almost seemed to risky, but then again...Quinn couldn't really back out without hurting Rachel's feelings a second time.

"Fine, but we have to go out through the parking lot," compromised Quinn.

"Through the parking lot? Why?" Then Rachel understood.

"Of course. Your reputation. Every cheerleader needs to preserve his or hers." Quinn nodded apologetically.

"No. It's fine." Rachel brightened a little. "We can just meet up at my house. Say...maybe, six?"

"Sure." Quinn smiled reluctantly.

"I'll see you then." Rachel turned around, having trouble concealing the broad smile that was forming on her lips.

Little did Rachel know that back in the choir room, still standing where she'd stood when she apologized to Rachel, Quinn was smiling, too.

**Sorry for the corniness. :P**


	6. Chapter 6: Spark

**Chapter 6: Spark**

**I cannot thank you guys enough for the reviews/favorites/follows. It's really making my day. :)**

**Short, ultimately plotless chapter. But I felt like I needed to include Quinn's visit to Rachel's house.**

**Also, sorry about the grammar error in Chapter 5: it should be "_too _risky", not "_to_ risky".**

Rachel felt as though she was walking on air as she and Quinn made their way to the Berry's front door. Rachel walked a few steps ahead of Quinn, who was nervously checking her surroundings for people who attended McKinley High.

Truth to be told, as much as she didn't want to be seen with Rachel Berry, somewhere deep down inside of her, Quinn was looking forward to going to Rachel's house. Quinn dismissed her excitement by labeling it as an after-effect of the guilt she'd felt when she'd yelled at Rachel the previous week.

"So, this is my house..." Rachel smiled brightly, presenting her front door with her hand. Quinn smiled a little. Rachel opened the door and let the blonde in.

Quinn stood awkwardly in the doorway, taking in the Berrys' home. A bit modern for Quinn's taste, but it did have a certain homey feeling to it.

"Is that...a piano?" asked Quinn, vaguely amused.

"Oh. Yeah. My dads and I like to put on shows sometimes. Just for ourselves. Sometimes we try to get the neighbors to come, but they usually tell us they've heard enough of my singing to last a lifetime." Quinn stifled a giggle.

"Are your dads home?" asked Quinn.

"No," answered Rachel. "They're going to go to the theater tonight. They go every Thursday and Friday." Rachel cleared her throat.

"So this is the living room...I have a TV in my room, by the way. So..." Rachel paused, feeling suddenly as if the conversation had gotten too personal. "...um...if you want...we can..."

Quinn almost laughed at Rachel's blushing face.

"Go to the bedroom?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Poor Rachel was very embarrassed, and Quinn felt a pang of pity for her.

"Let's go then." The two girls walked upstairs.

Rachel's bedroom was painted a bright yellow with a white four-poster bed against one wall. Broadway musical posters adorned each wall.

"You weren't kidding when you said you liked Broadway."

"Oh, I never kid about Broadway." Rachel put her bag down by her vanity and started fussing with her hair in the mirror. "Broadway is my _destiny_."

"I can tell." Quinn raised both eyebrows, looking around the room with a look that Rachel perceived as either impressment or mockery.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" asked Rachel.

"Let me guess: you own every single movie musical ever made?" asked Quinn, taking a seat on the Rachel's bedside. Rachel looked down and smiled.

"Yeah. Kinda." Quinn laughed shortly.

"Of course you do. C'mon, show me which ones you have." Quinn got up and looked over Rachel's shoulder at the immense collection of DVDs on the shelf beneath her small television set, Rachel biting her lip to contain her smile. Her heart was thumping in her chest at the short distance between her and Quinn. She was so close, she could just grab her face and kiss her...Rachel shook her head to clear it.

"Um. What about _My Fair Lady_?" asked Rachel, holding up one of the DVD boxes for Quinn to see.

Quinn shrugged. "Sure."

Rachel popped the DVD in and sat down on her bed beside Quinn, trying to keep as safe a distance from her as possible so as not to invade her personal space.

As the movie played and Rachel and Quinn laughed and occasionally sang along, Quinn felt a little spark. That was the best way Quinn could describe it; a spark. And it was definitely not unpleasant.


	7. Chapter 7: Busted

**Chapter 7: Busted**

When Rachel walked into glee club four weeks later, she was surprised to see only Kurt already seated.

"I know your secret," he said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Secret?" asked Rachel, approaching him, feeling a slight wave of nervousness wash over her. "Wh-what secret?"

"You and the cheerleader," he answered in a blasé tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Rachel, laughing nervously and starting to take a seat.

"I saw you two after glee practice two weeks ago," replied Kurt.

Rachel's mind flashed back to Thursday two weeks ago. It had been a rainy, early-October day, and Quinn's parents were running late. All Rachel had done was offered to walk Quinn home under her umbrella. I mean, they were _friends_, right? Or so Quinn had confirmed that day when Quinn had apologized to Rachel. She'd said she needed a friend, and Rachel had agreed. So, they were friends. And friends helped each other out. Innocently.

Rachel began to panic, but tried to cover it up by explaining,

"She needed help getting home. That's all."

"Rachel." Kurt turned towards Rachel, who had taken a seat behind him. "I _know_ these things." He was quiet for a minute, Rachel staring at him, unable to speak.

"Oh, come on. Everybody sees the way you stare at her in glee club. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if she'd caught on, too."

"I-I..." Rachel felt her face heating up. "I'm not a lesbian," she whispered. Kurt raised an eyebrow. She tried to surmount her embarrassment by going on,

"A-And how would you know if I was?"

"Like I said before. I know these things."

Rachel looked confused. "How?"

Kurt's eyes suddenly became wide, and his pale face grew red. "Because I just know." He quickly turned around.

Rachel shrugged, glad that he'd diverted his attention from her crush––now that she was a little more comfortable with calling it that, at least to herself––on Quinn.

Quinn waltzed in, smiling a little at Rachel. Rachel knew not to take offense at Quinn's reluctance to flaunt their newfound friendship; Quinn's reputation was very important to her. No matter how shallow it seemed, Rachel knew that if she wanted to get closer to Quinn, she just had to accept that about her.

"Quinn?" came a sudden voice from the hallway. Quinn whirled around to see Santana and Brittany standing in the doorway of the choir room, peering in, looking confused. "What are you doing in the _choir room_? This is where glee club rehearses."

"U-Um..." _Busted. _Quinn knew this day would come anyway, but she didn't think that it would come so soon. She'd thought maybe sometime in December or January, or at the very least springtime.

As if things couldn't get any worse, Coach Sylvester appeared behind Santana and Brittany, looking just as confused as Santana and Brittany.

"Q, what do you think you're doing?"

Quinn, unable to answer, just stood there, watching the trio in horror.

"In my office. Now," demanded Coach Sylvester. Quinn obediently followed, Santana and Brittany trailing behind her.

* * *

"Would you care to explain to me why I saw you in that room with those future Broadway train wrecks?" asked Coach Sylvester as she sat down at her desk, removing her reading glasses.

Santana and Brittany, who were seated on either side of Quinn, stared at her. Quinn looked down, the pressure becoming too much. She racked her brain for an excuse as to what she was doing there. Suddenly, she remembered something: that third week of glee club, she remembered walking down the hallway and seeing Coach Sylvester and Mr. Schuester in Figgins' office, yelling at each other. Sue hated the glee club; that was a given. She told her Cheerios that every day.

"Infiltration," replied Quinn quickly. When Coach Sylvester looked confused, Quinn hastily explained, "I was...keeping an eye on them. From the inside. I didn't want to tell you because I'd sort of...come up with the plan on my own. I thought it could be a good project. You know. So I'd have things to use against them should you decide to bring them down one day."

Coach Sylvester stared at Quinn for a while, then said,

"You know, Q. I'd always suspected that you were like a young Sue Sylvester. But this one just proves it to me." She smirked devilishly, standing up. "I'm proud of you." She snapped her fingers at Santana and Brittany. "You two. You're going to follow Q's lead. Join that glee club. With three members keeping an eye on it from the inside, we'll have enough knowledge to destroy it."

"Oh, no way," declined Santana immediately. "If you think I'm going to join the Gay Pride parade, you are way, way wrong––"

"If you don't, you're off the Cheerios." Coach Sue sat back down and put her glasses back on. "Now get the hell out of my office."


	8. Chapter 8: Truth

**Chapter 8: Truth**

The following Thursday, Rachel's stopped when she saw two Cheerios sitting beside Quinn in the choir room. She was even more confused when she saw three members of the football team sitting by Finn.

"Hey guys!" called out Mr. Schuester. "Rachel. Take a seat," he continued.

"So. As Ms. Sylvester so kindly reminded me," he started sarcastically, "we need 12 members to compete at Sectionals, which are rapidly approaching and will take place a week before Thanksgiving." Rachel pulled out her planner and started writing down the date. "I was lucky enough to have Santana and Brittany over here audition." He motioned towards the two cheerleaders next to Quinn. "Finn here was also able to recruit three members of the football team, so let's give a warm welcome to Mike, Sam, and Noah––"

"It's Puck," interrupted Noah.

"Right," said Mr. Schuester skeptically. "Puck." Quinn shifted uncomfortably when Mr. Schuester mentioned his name.

"So, I was thinking that we could teach our new recruits a few of the songs we've been working on." Mr. Schuester clapped his hands. "We're going to the auditorium."

As the group made its way out of the choir room, Rachel tried to talk to Quinn. She approached her, but was immediately pushed away by her two friends.

"Go crawl back into your hobbit hole and leave us alone," said Santana with a look of disgust on her face.

* * *

Halfway through glee club, Rachel saw Quinn leave to go to the bathroom. Muttering that she had to go too, she ran after Quinn.

When Rachel got to the girl's bathroom, she saw Quinn staring intensely at her own reflection, both hands planted firmly on either side of the sink underneath her.

"Why are Brittany and Santana here?" asked Rachel. Quinn turned around, startled. Seeing that there was no point in hiding the truth from Rachel––and it being that they were friends, sort of––she sighed and said,

"After Coach Sylvester found out that I joined glee, I told her that I only joined to infiltrate it. You know, spy on you guys." Rachel's eyes opened wide, but Quinn put her hand out to stop her before she could say anything. "Relax. That's not really why I joined. So Coach Sylvester made Santana and Brittany join, too. So she could have three spies on the inside."

Rachel nodded.

"So now I'm trapped," said Quinn mournfully, leaning against the sink and staring at the ceiling.

"I thought you were friends with them," said Rachel, joining Quinn and leaning on the sink beside hers. "I mean, I always see them with you in the hallways."

"I know. And I am," said Quinn, slightly defensive. "But it's just...I mean, I trust them. They're both loyal. But they lack a certain..." Quinn couldn't put her finger on it.

"Compassion?" Rachel guessed.

"Yeah," said Quinn quietly. "Especially Santana. Brittany's just...well, she's Brittany. She's too simpleminded most of the time."

"Huh." Rachel chewed on her lip. "Well, I don't mean to brag, but I suppose that I could be the compassionate friend in your life." Quinn smiled, looking at the ground.

"If you want. Although I'll never understand why you'd want to be friends with someone like me."

Suddenly, Rachel felt a fire ignite within her. Her heart pounded and adrenaline suddenly filled her veins. She boldly moved away from the sink and towards Quinn and, heedless of what Quinn's feelings towards her might have been, she kissed her.

At first, Quinn was shocked. Her eyes opened wide as Rachel placed her lips on the cheerleader's. Suddenly, the tiny spark that Quinn had felt the first time she went to Rachel's place and that she'd been trying hard to fight against came back. Only this time, it wasn't a spark; it was a fully-formed flame. Quinn found herself actually enjoying Rachel's kiss. She closed her eyes and pulled Rachel closer to her. Rachel, encouraged, put her hands in Quinn's hair, and the two began kissing more intensely, their mouths colliding. Fireworks were going off in Quinn's head, fireworks that she'd never felt with anyone, not even Finn.

Breathless, Rachel suddenly pulled away, and the two stood in the bathroom, staring at each other, panting. Quinn was clutching the sink she was still leaning against.

"Wow," breathed Quinn softly. "I've never...kissed a girl before," she whispered, looking down, seeming confused.

"Neither have I. Kissed anyone, actually," said Rachel. She cleared her throat, pushing a lock of stray hair behind her ear.

"We should get back to practice," said Quinn quietly, smoothing her Cheerios uniform out.

"Yeah," said Rachel. "D-does this mean we're, um..."

"Dating?" asked Quinn, raising an eyebrow. She scoffed. "No. Absolutely not. This didn't mean anything. This didn't happen."

Quinn started leaving the bathroom, but before she could push the door open, Rachel called out,

"You shouldn't be ashamed of your sexuality, Quinn."

Quinn stopped dead in her tracks, whirling around.

"I'm not interested in girls," she replied firmly. It was Rachel's turn to raise her eyebrow.

"Really. Then why have you been so insistent on spending every Thursday at my house watching movies? Or why didn't you complain––far from it––when I offered to walk you home a few weeks ago when it was raining? Or why––whenever we're in glee club––do you stare at me?" Quinn opened her mouth to retort, but Rachel cut her off. "And don't try denying it; I see you staring at me when I'm not staring at you." Quinn looked away, a blush spreading on her face.

"And if you're straight," Rachel continued, quieter this time, "why did you seem to enjoy the kiss we just shared so much?" Quinn's face now matched her Cheerios uniform, and Rachel smirked.

"Yeah, I thought so."

"Look, just..." Quinn's voice was all choked up from embarrassment. "Just because I might be attracted to you doesn't mean that I'm a _lesbian_."

"Of course not," said Rachel gently, walking over to her and placing an arm on Quinn's. Quinn looked like she was about to cry. "Nobody said you had to label yourself."

"It's just..." Quinn was definitely going to cry now. "My dad always told me that any...attraction to any girl on my part is bad. I'm disobeying him by doing this. I'm disobeying him, and my mom, and my sister––" Quinn was sobbing now, her eyes filled with tears.

Tentatively, Rachel put her arms around Quinn. Surprisingly, Quinn returned the hug, leaning her head on Rachel's shoulder. Rachel gently rubbed Quinn's back.

"It's okay. It's okay."

"I––"

"Shh. You don't have to say anything anymore." Rachel pulled away from Quinn as gently as she could. "We don't have to do this anymore. We don't even have to talk about what just happened ever again. We can stop the movies on Thursdays, and the stares during glee club, and––"

"But that's not what I want," said Quinn in a cracked voice. "I mean...I _like _you Rachel. I really do, and I've been ashamed to admit it because of my dad, and just this whole damn conservative town..."

"I know," said Rachel quietly.

"It's like..." Quinn sniffled. "When Kurt came out in the ninth grade––"

"Wait. Kurt's gay?" asked Rachel. Quinn nodded.

"Yeah. He came out to the school in the ninth grade. But the whole town gave him _hell _about it, so he tries to hide it now. And even though I'm not supposed to care about him because I'm a Cheerio and he's some gay musical-theater fashionista at the bottom of the social pyramid, I see him every day trying to hide who he is. Stifling himself. Trying to "tone himself down". And I don't understand why people can't just leave him _alone_."

Rachel's mind flashed back to how embarrassed Kurt got when he told her that he knew about her crush on Quinn. Now she understood. _Gosh_, it sucked to be the new kid in town.

"And I don't want that to happen to me, but it looks like that's the only thing to do."

"Wait. S-So you _are _a lesbian?" Quinn nodded.

"My first crush was a girl named Lindsay in the second grade. I never told her, because of my parents, and I tried to suppress it, and eventually it went away." Quinn dried her eyes.

"And then in the tenth grade, I started falling in love with Santana, and I-I panicked, you know? So I started dating Finn as a cover-up. So no one would suspect anything. Not even Santana." Rachel nodded, listening attentively.

"The truth is..." Quinn looked down, smiling slightly. "Finn's a great guy and all, but I don't love him. I never did. But he thinks so. Whenever he said 'I love you', I'd say 'Me, too'. But I didn't mean it. And _God_..." Quinn gritted her teeth. "I'm such a bitch for doing that."

"Quinn..." started Rachel, but she didn't know what to say to comfort her.

"Quinn, you can't live like this anymore. You've got to come out." Quinn stared at Rachel, her eyes wide.

"I can't," she said immediately, clearly panicked. "Not right now." The two girls were quiet for a moment.

"I want to go out with you," said Quinn suddenly. "As a start. To...accepting myself, I guess. I like you, Rachel," she said, smiling through her tears. Rachel smiled back, her heart twisting at how pained Quinn looked.

"Me, too."

Another silence.

"Why don't we go to Breadstix tomorrow night," suggested Rachel. "My dads and I went there on the first night that we moved here, and it was good."

"Yeah," said Quinn, laughing shortly. "It's good."

"So you, me and Breadstix Friday night."

"What if someone sees us?" asked Quinn, starting to panic again.

"Then let them see us," said Rachel decisively. "This is the first step to accepting who you are and letting the world know that you're comfortable with who you are."

"Okay," said Quinn reluctantly.

"Okay," said Rachel, smiling. "But now we really have to get back to rehearsal, or Mr. Schuester will think something's up."

Quinn nodded, sighing. She splashed water on her face and dried herself with a paper towel before she made her way down the hall with Rachel.

As they went back to the auditorium, Quinn gently brushed her fingers against Rachel's and smiled. And Rachel smiled back.


	9. Chapter 9: Tell Me About Yourself

**Chapter 9: Tell Me About Yourself**

Friday night, 8 PM sharp. It was so like Rachel to be perfectly punctual. Perfectly punctual. What a nice alliteration.

Rachel was so nervous she didn't even know what she was thinking anymore. Her mind was racing, her palms sweaty. She made a disgusted face as she wiped them on the skirt of her dress. She'd worn the perfect outfit for the evening: a light pink and white gingham dress with a pink cardigan to suggest the innocence and playfulness of the date.

Rachel took a seat at the booth she'd reserved. She anxiously played with her hands, her eyes constantly darting towards the doorway for any sign of Quinn.

A young girl suddenly entered the restaurant, wearing a pair of regular jeans and a gray hoodie with the hood pulled over her head. Big sunglasses covered half of her face. It wasn't until Rachel noticed the stray locks of blonde hair sticking out of the young girl's hoodie that she recognized her.

"Quinn?" asked Rachel, vaguely amused at the cheerleader's attempt to be anonymous.

"Shh," hushed Quinn harshly, quickly taking a seat at the booth, lowering her head to remove her sunglasses.

"You know, people can still recognize you with all that on."

"I'm just not ready for people to know about me yet," Quinn stated in a low voice. Rachel smirked sympathetically, then leaned over the table and quickly leaned over the table took push back Quinn's hood, revealing a head of thick, curly blonde hair. Quinn let out a surprised yelp, making Rachel laugh harder as she raised her glass of water to take a sip. Quinn playfully slapped at Rachel's glass of water, successfully drenching the brunette. Laughing, Rachel lunged for Quinn across the table, knocking her glass of water off of the table.

"Ladies? Can I help you?" A waitress suddenly appeared before the two soaked girls, Rachel halfway across the table with her hands on Quinn's hoodie.

"Um." Rachel quickly retreated back to her seat, fixing her dress.

"We'll clean up the mess," offered Quinn quickly, leaning over to pick up her glass. Rachel started giggling.

"Don't worry about it," said the waitress suddenly. "Ohio needs more liberated people like you." She waggled her pen towards Quinn. "You're Quinn Fabray, right? Russell Fabray's daughter?"

Quinn very reluctantly nodded.

"Good for you," said the waitress, smiling.

As she walked away, Rachel turned to Quinn.

"See? It's not that bad, not hiding who you are."

"It's one person, Rachel. She's probably a liberal trapped in Lima."

"That could be a good book title. A Liberal in Lima."

"Totally."

They giggled.

"So. Rachel Berry." Quinn smirked mock-seductively. "Tell me about yourself."

"Well. I'm glad you asked." Rachel flicked her hair behind her ear, smiling brightly. Quinn rolled her eyes, but a smile was forming on her lips.

"I was born Rachel Barbra Berry to two gay dads via surrogate mother. Right away, my dads could see my potential. I began singing when I was 18 months old and dancing when I was 21 months old. My dream to be on Broadway blossomed when I was three years old and saw the movie-musical classic, _West Side Story_. I relate so strongly to the character of Maria. Since then, I have loved musical theater and will stop at nothing to achieve my dream, especially that of playing Fanny Brice in the musical _Funny Girl_."

"That sounds oddly rehearsed," teased Quinn.

"I started writing my autobiography when I was 12," stated Rachel proudly. "Now it's your turn. Tell me all about Quinn Fabray," continued Rachel, taking a sip of water. Quinn's expression suddenly darkened.

"I'd rather not."

"Well, why not?" asked Rachel, setting her glass back down on the table. "I told you about me. It's only fair that you return the favor."

"Trust me, I don't think there's anything worth knowing about me."

"I hardly think that's true––"

"Please," said Quinn suddenly, her voice hard and eyes pleading. Rachel looked slightly alarmed. "I just...really don't want to talk about my past," justified Quinn, looking away.

Rachel pressed her lips together, nodding slowly.

"Alright then. If that's what you want." Quinn nodded; that was what she wanted. The less Rachel Berry knew about her, the easier this relationship would be. Quinn was not about to screw this up; and God knew Quinn had already screwed up enough during her lifetime.

Rachel smiled briefly.

"So. Tell me about McKinley High."

A certain awkward air reigned over them. Their food came and they paid. Their conversations were stiff and riddled with awkward silences as Quinn did her best to explain McKinley High's inner workings to Rachel, who silently nodded every now and then.

By ten o'clock, Rachel and Quinn had ventured to the parking lot and stood there, feet firmly planted on the pavement. Quinn had put her sunglasses back on, making it difficult to tell what she was thinking.

"What did you tell your dad you were doing tonight?" asked Rachel.

"I told him I was going to study with a friend."

"And he believed you?" Quinn smiled.

"I'm a good liar when I want to be."

Rachel couldn't resist placing a kiss on Quinn's cheek.

"I-I have to go," said Quinn quickly. In the twilight, Rachel could see that she was blushing.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," said Rachel. Quinn nodded.

"Okay." Quinn briskly turned around and disappeared around the corner.


	10. Chapter 10: Confessions

**Thank you guys SO MUCH for the reviews. Really, you're all so nice; you made my day. :)**

**Chapter 10: Confessions**

On Monday afternoon, Quinn didn't see Rachel anywhere. She hadn't called her all weekend, and she couldn't find her all day.

Quinn stopped at her locker. As she opened it, a small piece of pink paper fell out. Curious, Quinn picked it up and turned it over. The note read:

_Meet me in the choir room after school._

_Rachel_

Rachel had stuck a glittery gold star sticker next to her name, and Quinn smiled wanly. _Typical Rachel Berry._

She quickly folded the note and stuck it in her bag, looking up at the clock that hung in the school's hallway. Cheerios practice started in five minutes. _Screw it_, thought Quinn. _This is more important._

"Rachel?" asked Quinn, tentatively walking into the darkened, seemingly-empty choir room. She turned her head and saw Rachel leaning against the piano, with Brad, the piano player, sitting in front of it.

"Quinn," said Rachel as the cheerleader approached her. "Sit down."

"Rachel? What's going on?"

"Please, just sit. Don't say another word until I'm finished."

Quinn did as she was told, placing her backpack beneath her chair.

"So. I noticed that you got really uncomfortable during our date on Friday." Quinn didn't say anything, looking away. "So...I thought that I could make it up to you. With this hopefully less awkward song. That I think you'll like."

A confused smile appeared on Quinn's lips as Rachel cleared her throat and nodded towards the piano player, who started playing.

_"__When the rain is blowing in your face_

_And the whole world is on your case_

_I could offer you a warm embrace_

_To make you feel my love."_

Quinn immediately recognized the song and smiled. Briefly, she remembered the time she and Rachel had sat down to watch a movie and talked about their favorite artists. _She remembered that I love Bob Dylan._

_"__I could make you happy, make your dreams come true_

_There's nothing that I would not do_

_Go to to the ends of the Earth for you_

_To make you feel my love."_

When Rachel finished, Quinn was still smiling; she couldn't stop.

"So. I'm not really all that familiar with Bob Dylan, and I wasn't sure which of his songs was your favorite, but––"

Quinn slowly got up and kissed Rachel lightly. A peck, really. It was a very risky thing for Quinn to do, really, what with everyone passing in the hallway, but at that moment Quinn felt like she and Rachel were in a whole other dimension, a dimension that only included them.

"Thank you," said Quinn quietly. Then she picked up her backpack and raced to Cheerios practice.

"You're LATE!" yelled Sue Sylvester through her megaphone as Quinn raced out onto the field, where the other Cheerios were warming up and stretching.

"Where were you?" asked Santana as Quinn joined her.

"I had to go to the bathroom," answered Quinn quickly as she mimicked the movements of the Cheerios around her.

Santana raised her eyebrows.

"Really? For twenty minutes? And don't tell me that you're on your period because I know that was two weeks ago."

Quinn rolled her eyes, but Santana continued.

"And I know you hate doing number 2 at school––"

"Santana. Please." Quinn glared at Santana, who glared right back.

"Don't forget that you're talking to a girl with a Mexican third eye. I'm on to you, Fabray," said Santana. "Don't think you're getting away with this. You're acting so...weirdly distant to Brit and I these days." Quinn was about to deny the accusation, but Santana cut her off. "Remember that I'm in that lame singing club with you now and that I see you pretty much 24/7 now. Something's up."

"Nothing is _up_. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Wait. Are you––"

"No," said Quinn immediately. "And I _thought _that we established that we'd never talk about that again."

"Hey! Less yapping, more stretching!" barked Coach Sylvester through her megaphone.

"I've got my eyes on you, Q. All three of 'em," said Santana menacingly. Quinn silently gulped.

Thursday finally came, and Quinn couldn't have been happier to get to glee club. She was really starting to enjoy performing and getting ready for Sectionals, which were less than a month away.

Mr. Schuester clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Okay, guys. This week's assignment...drumroll, Finn..." Finn, who was seated at the drum set, obeyed. Mr. Schuester uncapped an Expo marker and began writing the word "CONFESSIONS" in big, black letters on the whiteboard.

"This week's theme is _confessions_. I want you to pick a song that...expresses something inside of you. Deep, deep down inside of you. Performing is all about becoming vulnerable, and not being ashamed of your weaknesses––rather, embracing them, because they make you human. This'll also serve as a bonding exercise." Mr. Schuester put the cap back on his marker and moved closer to the glee club. "You'll be showing the rest of the glee club your true colors, and it'll make us a strong team to beat the other teams at Sectionals."

Quinn took a deep breath. She wasn't sure she was liking where this assignment was going.

After forty minutes of practicing in the choir room, the bell rang, signaling the end of glee club. As soon as Santana and Brittany cleared out of the way, Rachel walked up to Quinn.

"So, what do you think you'll be doing for the assignment?" she asked.

"Nothing. I won't be participating," said Quinn, looking straight ahead. She looked troubled.

"But you have to," protested Rachel. "It's an obligatory assignment."

"Well, maybe I don't want to do this assignment. Maybe I don't feel comfortable sharing my true colors with a bunch of people that I don't know."

Santana and Brittany soon came up to Quinn.

"Is she bothering you?" asked Santana to Quinn, eyeing Rachel.

"Don't worry, Santana. I was just leaving." Rachel nodded, then turned on her heels and left. Quinn could tell that Rachel was disappointed, but she didn't know what to do about it. She wasn't going to talk about...the _incident_ to anyone. Well, anyone except for Santana and Brittany, anyway.

"I can trust you guys, right?" asked Quinn suddenly as the three girls made their way out of the school.

"Of course," said Santana.

"Yeah, we didn't tell anyone about the––" started Brittany.

"That's not the point," said Quinn quickly, cutting Brittany off. She took a deep breath. "If I told you guys something, would you _swear _not to repeat it?"

"C'mon, Quinn. We're your best friends," assured Santana. Quinn considered. On one hand, Santana was a bitch, but on the other...she was very loyal and trustworthy. That was a side of Santana that not many people got to see.

Quinn quickly hustled them around the corner, behind one of the parked school buses. When Quinn had triple-checked that there was no one within earshot, she took a deep breath.

"I have only told one other person about this. It's something that...I've been hiding. For a while. And I don't know why I'm telling you this now––maybe because it's this whole "confessions" thing that Mr. Schue is having us do––but...I think that after all that I've told you last year, you sort of should know this about me."

Santana and Brittany were quiet. For once.

"Okay. Okay." Quinn really wasn't sure how to do this. She wasn't really familiar or comfortable with the concept of coming out, but if Rachel Berry knew about this...then Santana and Brittany, her two best friends since third grade, should know, too.

"I play for the other team," said Quinn quickly, using a term that she'd picked up once.

"Wait...you play for the rival school's soccer team?" asked Brittany, her eyes opening wide.

"What? No. I mean, the other...gender team," said Quinn uncomfortably, looking down.

When Quinn looked back up, Santana's eyes were wide open.

"Really?" she asked in a hushed voice. Quinn nodded.

"And I feel like you guys should know. You know. Because you're my best friends."

"Wait, who's the other person who knows about this?"

_Oh God._

"Can you guys keep another secret?" asked Quinn.

The end of the week was a blur for Quinn. Santana and Brittany had taken Quinn's "coming out" surprisingly well, as well as the news that Quinn liked Rachel (although Santana had sarcastically commented, "The hobbit? Oh God, Quinn. If you're gonna like girls, at least fall for the attractive ones."). It was as if this new revelation had softened them, especially Santana, whose usual snarky comments were now few and far in between. They seemed awkward around her, though; one of these days, Quinn knew she'd have to tell Santana about her crush on her back in the ninth grade and using Finn to get over her.

"Quinn." Santana met Quinn at her locker at the end of Friday afternoon.

"Where's Brittany?" asked Quinn as she closed her locker.

"She had to go home. Lord Tubbington ate one of her dad's shoes and she's at the vet's with him." Quinn nodded.

"So listen." Santana put her hand on Quinn's arm, and Quinn almost reflexively jerked back. Santana wasn't usually the touchy-feely type. "I was doing a lot of thinking last night. Not just about your...coming out, I guess. But about the dwarf-girl you're seeing. Rachel What's-her-face."

"Berry," corrected Quinn.

"Right, whatever. Anyway. You know how Rachel, Brittany and I know about your sexuality now, right? Well...I think you should tell Rachel about what happened at the end of last year. Just like you told us."

"Oh no," said Quinn sharply. "Listen to me. If I tell Rachel about that, our relationship is _never_ going to work out. Do you understand?" Quinn started down the hallway, but Santana raced after her.

"Everybody screws up, Quinn," she said when she caught up to her. "Everyone. And...Rachel's probably screwed up, too."

"Yeah, but not as badly as I did," said Quinn, her voice starting to crack as she thought about what had happened in June last year, those memories and thoughts that she'd been trying so hard to suppress.

"So what?" said Santana. Quinn finally stopped and turned to face her. "Truth is, Quinn, if you really care about this relationship, you should tell Rachel everything. And by everything, I do mean _everything_ about yourself." Santana folded her arms.

"Rachel knows enough about me."

"Oh yeah?" Santana raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Does she know that your real name is Lucy?"

Quinn hesitated.

"Or that you and Puck––"

"Okay!" Quinn raised her hand to stop Santana. "You made your point." Quinn sighed. "You're right. I'll talk to her."

"Promise?" asked Santana.

"Since when do you care about my relationship with Rachel so much?" asked Quinn skeptically. "I've never really pinned you as the type of girl who'd help people out when it comes to love."

"I know. And I'm not." Santana paused. "Except with you and Brit."

Quinn tilted her head to the side, as if asking for further explanation.

"Look. It's your first relationship with someone that you actually like. And...because you're my best friend, and ONLY because of that...I want to help you. Because I care about you. And Brit, of course."

Quinn half-smiled.

"So, as your best friend, I recommend that you tell Rachel more about yourself. Even the parts of you that you hate or wish didn't happen. Starting with what happened in June."

"Fine."


	11. Chapter 11: Repressed

**Chapter 11: Repressed**

On Wednesday, the day before glee rehearsal, Quinn called Rachel and asked if she could come over under the pretext of looking for a song to sing for that week's assignment.

When Quinn got there, she felt like she'd just dry-swallowed a pill. Her throat was dry no matter how much water she drank.

Rachel practically glided across the living room when she Quinn knocking at the door. When she opened it, Rachel was surprised to see that Quinn wasn't in her Cheerios uniform. Rachel had never actually seen Quinn in anything other than her cheerleader skirt and top. Without her social status-marking outfit, Quinn looked more approachable.

"You look nice," said Rachel, a broad smile on her face. Quinn blushed.

"Listen, before we start rehearsing...I need to talk to you." Quinn rushed the words out so she wouldn't chicken out.

Rachel's smile quickly faded to a concerned frown.

"Um...okay. Let's go upstairs." Rachel took Quinn's hand and led her to the bedroom.

Quinn sat down on Rachel's bedspread, and Rachel soon joined her. Quinn smoothed out the white dress she was wearing, fiddling with the buttons on her jean jacket.

"So...?" Rachel prompted gently when Quinn didn't say anything for a few minutes. "What's the matter?"

Quinn looked at the carpet, trying to find a way to tell Rachel what she'd been hiding from her ever since they'd gone to dinner at Breadstix. She finally decided that the only way she could go through with this was to tell Rachel everything from the start. No holding back.

"You know how...I was being really distant and weird at Breadstix last week when you asked me to talk about myself?" Rachel slowly nodded, trying to figure out what Quinn was getting at.

"Well...it's because there's something about me that I've been hiding for a while."

"You already told me that you're a lesbian," said Rachel. Quinn shook her head.

"No, it's not that. Like...there's a lot of stuff that I think you should know about me. But I think I'll start with the biggest thing. But before I tell you, I want you to _swear_ you won't tell anyone. Okay?"

"I promise," said Rachel, moving closer to Quinn. Quinn inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled through her mouth.

"So...you remember when Finn said that I cheated on him last year, right? Well...that's not really what happened, exactly. The thing is..." _Oh, gosh. Why couldn't Quinn just stop trembling? _"...Finn's best friend is Puck, right? Well, he..." Quinn paused. Rachel gently took Quinn's hand, as if sensing that whatever Quinn was going to tell her would require consolation. Quinn took another deep breath and decided to talk as much as possible without stopping. "At the end of my sophomore year, in June, there was this senior on the Cheerios who was throwing a big end-of-the-year party at her house, which was huge. So Santana, Brittany and I were invited and we went. And basically almost _all _of the popular people were there, including Puck. Finn brought me to the party, but then he went to talk with some other boys on the football team, and Santana and Brittany had gone off to God-knows-where. So I was just by myself for a while. So I was standing in a corner, leaning against a wall, drinking a cup of beer." Quinn licked her lips; her mouth was still dry as sand. "And then...Puck came over. He leaned his hand against the wall, cornering me, and asked me if I was okay. I told him I was fine. And then we started making small talk, just about this and that. We were standing right by the refreshments table, so he kept offering me drink after drink after drink. I must've drank the equivalent of three bottles of wine," said Quinn, laughing shortly. Then her eyes suddenly misted over. "So then...well, by then I was completely drunk and tipsy. It's all kind of hazy, what happened next, but I can still sort of remember it. Puck asked me if I wanted to go lie down for a while because I looked kind of sick. I remember wanting to hurl so badly. So I said okay, and he took me upstairs into an empty bedroom. And then..." Quinn inhaled shakily, as if indicating the crying that was about to follow. "Well, then I think you can guess what happened." Quinn turned to Rachel, who had a look in her eyes that mixed concern with pity, shock and anger––anger at whom, Quinn wasn't sure.

Rachel didn't say anything, so Quinn went on. "He started...kissing me everywhere. And then I can't really remember what was going through my head, but...he _kept _kissing me. Then he started taking off my clothes, and I guess because I was drunk I was enjoying it. So I'm not really sure that it qualifies as rape, but..." Tears were already falling down Quinn's cheeks as she recalled the painful memory. "The next morning, I had, like, ten missed calls on my cell phone. I woke up with this _horrible _hangover headache, and the first thing I did after I checked my phone was go into a bathroom and throw up. When I raised my head, I caught a glimpse at my reflection––this pale, insecure, shallow and vapid image of a girl's face. It just depressed and scared me. For some reason, never had my self-hatred of who I was been as apparent in my reflexion than that morning. And that was when I noticed that I was naked, and when Puck came into the bathroom, pulling on his boxer shorts, it hit me. I realized what I'd done. And it just..." Quinn sobbed. "It just made me hate myself even more..." Rachel started to hug Quinn, but Quinn pushed her back, angrily.

"I'm not done," she choked. Quinn sniffled, then went on. "So I was...so mad. Not only at myself, but at _him_. He was such an _asshole_, for doing that to me, for taking advantage of me..." Quinn tried clearing her throat, to no avail. "So then Puck looks at me and goes, 'Thanks for last night.' Then he smiles and walks away. I remember getting so mad I grabbed a tissue box that was next to the bathroom sink and throwing it as hard as I could at him, screaming after him that he was a jerk and a son of a bitch. I missed by a wide margin––I was hungover, so my aim was terrible––and then just crumpled onto the bathroom floor and started crying. About thirty minutes later, this one girl who'd "slept over" too came in and saw me. She noticed it was me and asked if I was okay. I looked up and because I was so embarrassed about what had happened..." Quinn pressed her fingers to her eyelids. "...I just nodded and smiled and went back to the bedroom where my clothes were. I got dressed and got the hell out of there, calling my house to tell them that I'd spent the night at Santana's. When I came back and they saw me all pale and nauseous, I told them that I'd probably gotten the stomach flu from someone." Quinn rubbed her eyes to get rid of the tears, but they kept coming.

"Quinn..." started Rachel in a weak voice, but Quinn shook her head.

"I'm still not done. I wish I was, I wish that that was all that happened, but it's not." Quinn shakily inhaled again, and somehow within her found the courage to continue. Maybe it was because she'd kept these feelings so repressed and that it felt so good to release them, or maybe it was the fact that Rachel hadn't left yet and was listening attentively. When Rachel put her arm on Quinn's, Quinn didn't flinch; she let her.

"So two weeks later, school was officially let out. And I was feeling really sick for some reason. I'd wondered if I'd actually gotten the stomach flu because I just kept throwing up. And then...I knew that Puck had knocked me up. I didn't even need a pregnancy test to prove it, but I took one just in case. That son-of-a-bitch has a reputation of never using condoms, so it figures that he'd have gotten me pregnant." Quinn bit her lip and looked up, tears coming even faster.

"So I couldn't tell my parents, because I _knew_ that they'd kick me out. I mean, of _all _of the girls Puck could've knocked up, why was it me? The one with the super conservative parents who want their daughter to wait until marriage?" Quinn sniffled again and was quiet for a moment. Then she turned to Rachel and said, "I bet you're wondering what happened to the baby, right?" Rachel looked down, biting her lip, not saying anything but her grip on Quinn's arm tightening.

"Well...after I told Santana and Brittany about what happened, because they're my best friends, I went for eight weeks without telling anyone. And then, a little less than a month before school started...I realized that I couldn't do it." A few tears slipped down Rachel's cheeks. "So..." Quinn's bottom lip trembled as she held back even more sobbing. "I secretly went to a clinic. And...I aborted the baby."

A stunned silence reigned in the room before Quinn completely lost it and started sobbing manically. Rachel took Quinn in her arms, holding her as tightly as she could.

"I never gave her a chance to live!" sobbed Quinn. "I'm a monster, I'm a monster..." Quinn was crying so hard she couldn't breathe.

When Quinn had undergone terminating her pregnancy, she hadn't allowed herself to cry. She'd been holding them in for so long, and it felt so good to finally tell someone, unrestrained, about her experience. Santana and Brittany knew about it, but Quinn hadn't dared to cry in front of them.

"Shh. It's okay. It's okay." Rachel, despite crying herself, did her best to calm down a completely out-of-control Quinn. She looked up at the ceiling.

Two hours went by. Two long, long hours of Quinn crying and sobbing in Rachel's arms. When Quinn felt like she'd calmed down enough, she gently broke out of Rachel's embrace, hiccuping, and lay down on her back on Rachel's bed, her head against one of the pillows. Rachel did the same, angling her body towards Quinn and stroking her hair gently. For a while, neither of them said anything. Rachel didn't even know _what _to say, because what _could_ you say to a girl who was raped and had to undergo an abortion if you'd never gone through those things yourself?

When Quinn's hiccups died down and Quinn felt like she was calmer, Rachel said softly,

"Thank you for trusting me." Quinn didn't say anything.

After a few minutes, she asked in a broken voice,

"Can I spend the night here?" Rachel nodded.

"Of course."


	12. Chapter 12: Just an author's note

This is just an author's note: this story will be on hiatus until the end of August because I'm away on vacation and dealing with some personal stuff. Don't worry, I promise I'll update before the end of the summer. Thank you to all of you guys reading this fanfiction. I hope you enjoyed and will continue to enjoy it.

- Gabby


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